


Rebuilding

by Anonymous



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Panic Attacks, canon-typical trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 06:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30000843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Mollymauk wakes up in a shallow grave, remembering nothing. He finds his way back to the Mighty Nein, lying about remembering them. Angst ensues.
Relationships: Mollymauk Tealeaf/Caleb Widogast
Kudos: 23
Collections: Anonymous





	Rebuilding

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my WIP folder for well over a year now, and while I'm still not entirely happy with it, I kinda just want to publish it. So here it is.

He blinked, once, twice, but the darkness did not dissipate. He was lying on his back. It was cold. His hand flicked upwards. An inch up he hit… something. Something cold and soft. It crumbled. He scratched at it. His breathing began to falter, and his hands began frantically clawing at the surface above him. A beam of light broke through. He closed his eyes, blinded, but his hands continued to break the dirt above them away. He crawled out of the pit, looking up at a coat fluttering in the breeze. He looked down at his dirty, ruined clothing and pulled the coat on over it. There was no one around. He slipped his hands into his pockets and brushed something. A piece of paper. He pulled it out of his pocket and unfolded it. There were marks on it. He stared blankly at it for a minute before putting it back in his pocket. As he began to turn away, a glint of color caught his eye. He knelt and picked up a small card. 

“The Moon.”

He looked around, momentarily afraid, before realizing the voice was his. And the card. It was a tarot card, The Moon. He slipped the card into his other pocket and pulled the sheet of paper out again. This time, the marks had formed themselves into words. 

_ Your name is Mollymauk Tealeaf. _

_ Please come back to the Mighty Nein. _

Then, further down the paper, written in a hasty scrawl as if done at the last moment, after a line scribbled out.

_ Please, Molly. Please. - Caleb _

“Mollymauk Tealeaf. Molly.” The name sounded odd on his lips. He stared down at the paper again. The names meant nothing to him. The Mighty Nein. Caleb. He turned them over in his mind as he began walking along the road, unsure of where he was heading to. 

Mollymauk wandered from town to town, chasing rumors about these strangers, the Mighty Nein. These strangers, who might have once been his… companions? Friends? Caleb, who must have been his friend. Or more? Molly closed his eyes and shook his head to clear it. This line of thinking would get him nowhere. What he heard about them fascinated him. Some called them criminals, some heroes. Some called them valiant, some evil.

It took the better part of two months, but he traced the group out of the Dwendalian Empire to Xhorhas, to a city called Rosohna. Asking about the Nein’s whereabouts there, a man turned and simply pointed at the large tree that arose from a housing district. Molly made his way over the house, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door.

“Who’s— Molly!”

All the wind left Molly as he was lifted into the air and spun around by an enthusiastic blue tiefling.

“Hello, my dear!” Molly greeted her, trying not to let his panic be shown on his face.

“Guys! Yasha! Get down here right now!” She hollered back into the house. She grabbed Molly by the wrist, beaming, and dragged him into the house. “Here,” she pulled out a barstool. “Caduceus will be down in a minute and he will make some tea and we can catch you up! Oh my gods, you never met Caduceus. He’s—”

A clatter came from the stairs as a lean woman in blue descended the steps. “What the fuck, Jester? Wait, Molly? Molly!” She punched him in the shoulder and turned away, wiping at her eyes. “You ass, making us think you were dead.”

“Aw, Beau, are you crying?” The blue woman — Jester — teased.

“Jes? What’s goin’ on?” An half-orc poked his head out of the doorway. His eyes met Molly’s, and he drew in a sharp breath. “You’re alive?”

“I take it you must be Molly,” came a low rumble from a firbolg entering from the other side of the room. He made his way towards the sink and teakettle as a tall aasimar followed him into the room, stopping dead in her tracks. 

“Yasha, Yasha, it’s Molly!” Jester bounced over to the aasimar woman, pulling her towards Molly, who sat shock-still, overwhelmed.

“I’m so sorry, Molly,” Yasha pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry.” She pulled away, crying, and Beau wrapped one arm around her shoulders comfortingly. 

“Caleb!” A shriek came from a goblin at the top of the stairs. “Caleb, it’s Molly!” She rushed down the stairs to him.

“Molly?” A red-headed human stood at the top of the stairs. Molly studied him — this must be Caleb — looking for anything familiar. Something itched at the back of his mind, but try as he might, he couldn’t figure out what it was. There was a sudden, odd leap in his chest at seeing the skinny, ratty wizard, but he was quickly distracted by Jester’s enthusiasm. 

“Here, everybody grab a chair. We’ll catch Molly up on what he missed!” Jester bounced into a seat across from Molly. Fjord fell in next to her, Beau next to him. Yasha sat between Beau and Molly, and Caleb sat on the other side of Molly, Nott next to him. Caduceus handed tea out as Jester began excitedly talking about what had happened to the group, with the others interjecting occasionally. Molly tried to focus, but he quickly became overwhelmed, so he settled for his winningest smile and nodding when it seemed appropriate.

Yasha leaned over and whispered in his ear. “You don’t remember us at all, do you?”

Molly shook his head. She nodded, turning back to the group. “Jester,” she interrupted. “We should let Molly get settled in before we overwhelm him too much with all that’s transpired.”

“Oh, yeah! Uh, you can sleep with Fjord like you used to. We don’t really have a spare room.”

“He can sleep with me. I want to speak with him.” Yasha began walking towards the door as she spoke, nodding at Molly. Molly followed, avoiding eye contact with the group.

Yasha stood in the doorframe as Molly sat on the bed. 

“Yasha? Can you… can you tell me about this group? About… us?”

  
  
  


Caleb’s dreams brought him to the night before Molly had died. He was sitting, stroking Frumpkin, on watch. Molly sat across, staring out into the darkness. Caleb’s Dancing Lights flickered around his head. Molly stood and stretched, making his way to sit down next to Caleb, who blushed and stared down at his cat.

Molly put his arm around Caleb’s shoulder and began idly chatting, but Caleb was too distracted by the fact that this Molly would be dead in just over twelve hours to hear what he was saying. He knew he was blushing and quietly, modestly replying to Molly’s incessant flirting. 

He saw Molly pause and felt the grief well up inside him. Molly whispered in his ear before swinging his leg over Caleb’s lap so he was sitting on it and kissing him.

Then something changed from Caleb’s perfect remembrance of this evening. The hand on his shoulder and the lips on his heating to an unbearable temperature. Caleb pulled back, the image of dead Molly with a spear through his chest vanishing from his mind as it was replaced by an even more horrible vision.

The Molly in front of him was on fire, burning, screaming, dying. Caleb watched in horror, unable to turn away, his body shaking with silent tears. His hands, touching Mollymauk, were burning, and Molly tried to pull away, but Caleb’s hands stayed firmly against him. 

He was burning Mollymauk alive.

Caleb jolted upright, his heart racing. His nails dug into his palms as his perfect memory replayed him burning Molly over and over. He stumbled out of his bedroom, his panic spiking, just needing to flee for the moment.

“Oh! Caleb. Good… night? Morning? What’re you doing up?”

Caleb blinked at Mollymauk as he tried to process his words.

“Caleb?” Molly stepped closer to him. Caleb’s breath caught in his throat, and he threw up his hands, stumbling backwards until he ran into the wall.

Mollymauk hadn’t been able to sleep, so he’d been wandering the house, seeing the life his… friends? had made. 

Caleb had startled him when he had come into the library. Molly was no stranger to panic attacks. Waking up in a shallow grave will do that to you. He stepped slightly closer, and his suspicions were confirmed when Caleb had acted like a scared animal. Shit.

“Hey, Caleb, breathe for me, ok? Deep breaths.” He took another small step towards Caleb, as his breaths began to become more controlled and stable. Molly waited, quietly talking Caleb through deep breaths, until Caleb’s hands were no longer shaking, then stepped again towards him. “Are you ok with me touching you?” 

Caleb nodded, and Molly wrapped his arm around Caleb’s shoulders and led him towards a couch, settling him in. Molly sat down next to him. “Do you want to talk about… whatever happened?” There was a long silence, and Molly swallowed, afraid he’d overstepped. 

“Nightmare.”

Molly nodded. He knew that panic and discombobulation. There was another silence, then Molly said, “Do you want someone to stay with you? I can go get Nott if that—”

“ _ Nein _ . I-I don’t want her to be more worried about me. But can, Mollymauk, can you stay with me?”

“Of course, darling. Are you comfortable?”

“ _ Ja _ .” Caleb leaned his head against Molly’s shoulder and pulled his knees towards his chest. Molly felt a blush spread across his cheeks as the wizard yawned and closed his eyes.

Mollymauk awoke, uncomfortable. He started momentarily, finding his hand curled in Caleb’s hair as his head rested on Molly’s shoulder. The jolt awoke Caleb, who blinked, then jumped to his feet and began babbling quickly in Zemnian, his face bright red.

Caleb took a deep breath before muttering, “Sorry, Mollymauk, I didn’t mean to— ah, impose upon your night.” He quickly turned and left.

“No, it was my pleasure,” Molly replied at the closed door. He leaned his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Fuck.”

He stood, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and walked into the kitchen.

Molly looked around at the breakfast table of strangers, chatting and teasing, who believed him to be family. He felt bad deluding them, but he’d also feel bad if they knew – if he killed their Molly again. No-win situation. It sounded like they encountered a lot of those.

“It certainly sounds like you all have been having quite a time without me.” He said as Jester came to the end of her tale. 

“So, do you all have a plan for what’s happening next?”

“Well, uh,” Fjord cleared his throat. “We’ve been offered some good money to travel northwards to check out a military base that hasn’t reported in for a while. We were actually plannin’ on leavin’ this morning.”

“Well, gimme a day and, shit, some gold, and I’ll be ready.”

“Here,” Beau handed him about fifty gold. “That’s what’s left of what we took off your, uh, body. Sorry.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back soon!” 

Yasha caught him as he headed out the door. “I’ll come with.”

“Thanks, Yasha,” Molly said when he was sure they were far enough away from the house. “You’re a lifesaver. Now what the fuck do I need to buy?”

Yasha gave a small smile and led him about the town.

They had travelled for a couple of days when Beau, who was on watch, awoke the group with a quiet hiss, having seen movement in the trees.

Molly saw the beast just before it lashed out at Caleb. He jumped in front of it, brandishing his scimitars before he was aware that he was doing it. His mouth cursed it in Infernal as his hands stabbed and slashed with the blades. 

Molly was terrified. There was blood on his hands, dripping down his back. His neck stung as his own blood flowed onto his blade. He felt the beast rake its claws into his side and screamed as he dropped to one knee.

Caleb spun around, looking frightened. He heard someone else shout from across the clearing. Molly glanced around, realizing the others were fighting two other beasts. Caleb lifted his hands, and the beast spun backwards a few feet. Molly turned and charged the beast, letting his hands work on instinct, slicing and dicing. 

A whoop came from across the clearing, and Molly glanced over to see that one of the beasts was down. The second fell less than a minute later, and the third and last a minute after that.

Molly flopped overdramatically on the ground. “Bit more excitement than I was expecting this evening.”

“Yeah,” Jester followed Molly’s dramatics, landing with her head on his stomach, bringing a hand up to her forehead like a swooning aristocrat. “Gods, those beasts made me use up almost all my spell slots!”

“Maybe,” Beau grumbled, “you could stand to use a few of those spell slots to actually  _ heal _ some of us.”

Jester removed her hand from her forehead and flipped Beau off. Molly smiled. The dynamic was… comfortable. It felt right, in a way Molly couldn’t explain. These people he barely knew, being with them felt like he had been slotted into the correct place in a jigsaw puzzle. 

“Go get your sleep then, beauty queen.” Molly pushed Jester’s head off his stomach. “I can take next watch.”

As the others fell asleep, Molly sat next to Yasha, who shared watch with him.

“Caleb… he wrote me a note.” Molly passed the note over to Yasha. “Do you know… why?”

Yasha scanned the page. “You never mentioned anything to me about it. But I was… gone when you died. And I wouldn’t be the one to ask to know what’s going on in Caleb’s mind.”

“Yeah, ok.” Molly let out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, Yasha. I just… fuck,  _ hoped _ that you all would, I dunno, spark some semblance of memory.” 

There was a sudden stirring from one of the bedrolls, and Molly froze, fearful that someone had heard. When he was sure they were truly asleep, he relaxed again.

Yasha looked concerned. “You should tell them. They can help.”

“Yash, no. They think their Molly’s alive. I can’t make them watch him die again.”

Yasha nodded and wrapped one arm around Molly’s shoulders. They sat like that for a long time, watching the sun rise, until the others awoke.

“Heeeeelllllooooo!” Jester hollered at the empty-looking fortress. “Come out, come out wherever you are!”

“We don’t bite,” Molly added. “Well, unless requested.” He gave a wicked smile as Jester fell against him laughing wildly. A surge of happiness spread through his chest – maybe he could find home here after all.

“Molly,” Fjord protested weakly.

“I can send Frumpkin up,” Caleb was staring at his shoes, bright red. His blush clashed horribly with his hair, but Molly rather liked it. His eyes became unfocused as his hand found Beau’s shoulder and his cat began to scramble up the wall. Molly thought he was cute when he was embarrassed and paused. Where had that thought come from? What – His thoughts were interrupted when Caleb began speaking.

“There’s no one on the wall. Four buildings inside. They look vacant.”

“So go inside them!” Jester bounced on the balls of her feet.

“He can’t hear you.” Beau rolled her eyes.

“The first building — three rooms. There’s a… trapdoor? Wait,  _ scheiße _ !”

“Caleb? Caleb!” Nott pulled on her friend’s free hand as his eyes cleared. 

“ _ Arschloch _ . He killed my cat. I’m going to kill him.” The muttering was barely understandable, and flames seemed to flicker in Caleb’s eyes.

“Caleb?” Nott asked uncertainly. 

“Let’s go kick some cat-killer ass,” Beau said, clearly trying to hide her concern.

“Game plan?” Fjord asked as Jester ran towards a side door and the wall and tugged it open. “Why do I even try?” He sighed into his hand and followed Jester. Beau, Caleb, and Nott remained in their tableau as the rest traipsed inwards. Molly paused and looked back at the three, Caleb frozen, torn between anger and grief. Nott glared at him, and he turned and followed Fjord inside, pushing the upheaval of his emotions down.

Jester had her back pressed against the wall and held a finger to her lips with a smile. She pointed towards the cluster of buildings and whispered, “Do you know which building Frumpkin went to?”

“That one.” Molly jumped as he realized Caleb was directly behind him. “Back room, trapdoor, no windows. It moved; I couldn’t see what came out before Frumpkin…”

“C’mon,” Beau gestured for everyone to follow as she slipped between the shadows towards the house.

Molly grinned, though his tail had nervously wrapped around his ankle when Caleb had stepped up behind him, and followed the woman towards the house. The trapdoor was where Caleb had said, and Nott gestured for them all to remain back as she ran her hands and tools around the crack between the floor and the door, eventually popping it open.

Caleb stared blankly as Nott fiddled with the door. The warmth, comfort of Frumpkin’s presence was gone. He was coming down from the adrenaline rush created by anger and quickly dropping into grief. Spiraling into grief.

He was so distracted he didn’t notice Nott opening the door and his friends dropping in one by one. Nott tugged on his hand, jolting him back to reality. 

“We’re gonna kill that son of a bitch,” she promised.

Caleb nodded and lowered himself into the tunnel. It was narrow, each of his friends pressed back against the wall. Fjord looked like he was trying not to blush as his knees touched Jester’s with each of her excited bounces.

Beau nodded as Nott dropped down next to Caleb and turned, pointing down one direction the tunnel went, then the other, before spreading her hands in an  _ anyone got an idea of which way? _ gesture. 

If only he hadn’t lost Frumpkin. He could send the cat down the tunnels. He could figure out where to go. He could help his friends. But he couldn’t. He was useless. He could barely see in the darkness. His hands tightened, and his fingernails dug into his palms. 

Beau began walking, and the others fell into single-file behind her. Caleb followed on instinct at the back of the line in front of only Nott. 

He slammed into the back of Molly, who twisted and caught his shoulders. He put a finger to his lips and gestured to where Beau had stopped in front of a doorway into a well-lit chamber. 

Caleb mouthed “sorry” and stared at his feet, cursing the warm flow of blood to his cheeks. 

Beau peeked into the room and pulled quickly out, holding up four fingers. Jester mimed punching them. Beau nodded, mouthing “bad guys” and counted down on her fingers. Three… two… one… 

She launched herself into the room, followed by the others who quickly fanned out. Caleb pressed his back against the back wall. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he saw the four humanoids Beau had spotted. They were not the drow who were supposed to be occupying the fortress. Too large, too muscular.

Molly felt his own blades slash into his neck, a quick, sharp bite. Fighting by hurting himself sounded like a metaphor for something, but he was too distracted by the ways his arms skillfully manipulated the blades to think of what. 

Jester yelped a curse from across the battlefield. Molly looked up to see a dozen… creatures pouring into the room, with his limited knowledge and brief mid-battle glances, he didn’t have any idea what the things might be. He turned his attention back to the humanoid in front of him; he and Yasha slashing into it. It fell with a strangled gulp, and the two looked over at the rest of the room, calculating where they would be the most help. Beau was on one knee. Jester and Fjord were together, cornered. Caleb was next to the entryway, and Nott crouched by some barrels, both farther away from any of the beasts. Only Caduceus’ pink hair was visible from where he was surrounded. 

“You get the ones on Cad. I got Beau.” Molly darted towards the monk. “Hey, asshole!” he shouted in Infernal. Two of the creatures cocked their heads towards him just as he sliced into their skin. None of these creatures had fallen.

Fjord screamed “Run!”, and Molly turned to see a limp Jester in his arms. Caduceus looked over, his calm demeanor somewhat flustered.

Molly ran towards Fjord, ignoring the pain of the attacks that sunk into his skin. He dumped his last healing potion into Jester’s mouth and pushed them towards the exit. 

Molly paused in the center of the chamber, scanning for anyone else not out yet. No one. He ducked under one of the creature’s arms and sprinted towards the doorway.

Caleb stared at the trapdoor, sitting crossed-legged, rocking back and forth. His hand made petting motions over empty air where Frumpkin should have lain. Jester pulled herself out of the door, followed closely by Fjord. 

“That’s everyone but Molly.” Beau stared into the tunnel below. There was a beat of silence. “Fuck!” Beau slammed the door shut and jumped back into a fighting pose. 

Caleb shot to his feet.

“What? Where’s Molly?” Nott demanded.

“I don't know,” Beau panted. “One of the… things was coming down the tunnel, though.”

“We’d better go,” Fjord said hesitantly.

“Without Molly?” Jester exclaimed. “No way!”

The door rattled. 

“Shit,” Beau muttered. “We can’t fight them.”

Jester deflated. “You’re right.”

“We’ll come back for Molly. We’ll get him.” Fjord sounded more like he was trying to reassure himself. 

Caleb’s head began to whirl as the reality sunk in. Molly was trapped. Molly was gone. Molly was probably dead. He had lost Molly, again.

Nott grabbed his hand before he could dig his nails into his skin and pulled him after the rest of the party. 

He didn’t remember much of the night. He vaguely remembered spreading his bedroll and collapsing onto it. He heard snippets of an argument between the group but couldn’t focus on it. They’d left Molly once again in a hole in the ground. 

He could get Frumpkin back. He had enough to bring him back exactly once. He began muttering the ritual, and, in ten minutes, he buried his face in the softly purring fur of Frumpkin. His breathing calmed, and his body relaxed as he stroked the cat. He glanced around. Everyone was too distracted by their argument to notice Frumpkin’s appearance.

“Find Molly. Be careful,” Caleb whispered into his cat’s ear. He lay on his back and sent his senses into Frumpkin. 

The cat bounded off across the grass back towards the fortress. The sounds of his friends faded away behind Frumpkin, and the looming fortress drew closer. 

Frumpkin slipped into the trapdoor and padded softly through the shadows. He peeked into the chamber and withdrew with a hiss. There were still beasts in there. Caleb hadn’t seen Molly’s body, though, so perhaps… no, they had left Molly here; he couldn’t have made it out. Frumpkin curled into a small ball the shadows and listened, waiting for the beasts to wander off. 

After a while, Frumpkin slipped into the chamber. He scampered through it; it was empty. 

Frumpkin immediately scampered over to a nook by a small almost-ceremonial-looking pool. There was a body. Frumpkin nosed it, lifting the arm and snuggling under. Molly’s arm fell limply on top of Frumpkin, and Caleb’s breath caught in his throat. Frumpkin purred as the hand next to him scratched him lightly on the chin, and Caleb bolted upright.

Molly realized there was no way he could make it out after the group, so he tumbled to the ground, feigning unconsciousness. The beasts grabbed his arms and drug him through the tunnels. 

A new voice, an authoritative voice, spoke. “Tie him up. Keep him alive. He will make an excellent sacrifice.”

Molly’s consciousness flickered as he was drug to an alcove, blood still running from his wounds, and tied to a metal loop embedded in the wall. He came back to his senses as a wet nose nudged at his hand. A cat slipped into the crook on his arm, and he cracked his eye open. Frumpkin. He twisted his hand slightly, trying to move as little as possible, and scratched Frumpkin’s chin.

“Hey, Caleb,” he whispered. “I don’t know if you can hear me. I’m tied up. Still in the tunnel. Some sort of sacrifice is gonna happen. Can you hear me, Caleb?” There was no response from the cat. 

“Fuck. You’re not listening, are you? Gods, Caleb, I’m so sorry. I’ve been lying to you all. Here you are, about to mount a suicidal rescue mission for a man who doesn’t even remember you all. You’re gonna get yourselves killed for a stranger. For a stranger who should know you, who wants to know, to remember you, but—”

He jumped as Frumpkin vanished from his arms. He turned his face towards the wall and hoped that Frumpkin wouldn’t tell Caleb where he was. He didn’t want anyone dying for him, for the he that should have been but wasn’t. Especially Caleb.

Caleb listened as Molly stroked his cat. He lay there, on his bedroll, knowing he could not control his cat, he was just a spectator. But then Molly began talking honestly to the cat. Began telling him how he didn’t remember anything. Caleb closed his eyes and snapped his cat out, feeling embarrassed and intrusive, hurt and angry. The emotions battled in his mind as Frumpkin reappeared on his lap and he began absently stroking the cat. 

“Caleb?” Caleb jumped and turned, seeing Yasha, who must’ve been on watch. 

Caleb cleared his throat. “ _ Mir geht es gut _ . I’m good. Sorry.”

“You’re crying.”

Caleb raised a hand to his cheek and wiped away a tear he didn’t realize was present. “Molly’s been lying,” he whispered. “He — he doesn’t remember us.”

Yasha nodded and sat down next to Caleb. “He didn’t want to take your Molly away from you all again.”

Caleb stared at her for a moment. “You knew?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, Caleb.”

Caleb shook his head and curled on his side around his cat.

“Caleb?”

“Just… be on watch. Leave me alone.”

Molly had passed out shortly after Frumpkin left. When he awoke, there was a human leaning against the wall near him.

“Good morning, sir!” Molly gave the best bow he could in his seated, tied-up position and his most charming smile.

The man marched over with a stern look. “Up.” He sliced through the ropes binding Molly’s wrists to the wall and pulled him to his feet, his hands still tied behind him. 

“I don’t suppose a charming and handsome fellow like you would be willing to tell me where’s we’re off too?”

The man didn’t reply and pulled Mollymauk down the hall and into the corridor. One short hallway later, Molly was pushed to his knees at what looked like an altar.

“This doesn’t seem like the most courteous way to greet a guest.”

“Quiet.”

Molly watched the man turn away to pick up a fancy knife. Then his bindings loosened and his hands came free. Molly froze momentarily before bolting for the exit, the door having swung open. 

“Molly!” A voice screeched as he sprinted towards the hallway, and Nott appeared from the shadows next to Caleb. “Follow me!” Nott darted off, pulling Caleb behind her. Molly ran after them. The party was gathered around the entrance to the chamber, closing it off as the trio slipped through. Molly heard shouting and sounds of battle as Nott pulled him towards the trapdoor. They slipped out into the light, and, within five minutes, all his friends had followed out, bruised and bloody.

“Mollymauk!” Jester grabbed his hands and spun with him in a happy circle. “Are you ok? Do you need healing? I’m sure Caduceus would be happy to heal you.” Several members of the group rolled their eyes.

Molly glanced at Caleb, who was staring at his feet as his cat curled around his shoulders. One hand stroked Frumpkin as the other held an arrow wound on his ribs. 

“I’m brilliant, Jes. Takes more than a kidnapping to get me down. Just need a nice long rest, and I’ll be right as rain.”

“We got a camp just over there, over the ridge,” Beau pointed with her staff. “I think we all might need a rest.” She rubbed her arm, where a nasty bruise was beginning to bloom.

Molly volunteered to take third watch as the group trooped back to their campsite, and Caleb quickly volunteered to join him. Molly glanced over, surprised, but Caleb had gone back to muttering in Zemnian to his cat.

Caleb sat silently next to Molly on watch. Molly had attempted some banter, but it had not broken the awkwardness Caleb could feel. He knew Molly was lying. How the fuck did he tell Molly that?

“Mollymauk Tealeaf?”   
“Yes, dear?”

Caleb hesitated. “I –  _ Scheisse _ , I don’t know how to say this. Molly,” his voice cracked, “why are you lying to us?”

He watched Molly tense in the glow from the moon. Molly attempted a laugh, but it was awkward and forced. “What do you mean?”

“You don’t remember. Me. Nott. Beau. Even Yasha. You don’t remember any of us.”

Molly looked away from Caleb, off towards the horizon. “I don’t.”

“Then why,” Caleb hissed, not trying to keep his anger and sadness out of his voice, “did you lie to us?”

“I saw how happy you were to have your Molly back. I didn’t want to kill him again.” Molly sounded like he was trying to hold back tears. 

“But he is dead, Mollymauk! You’re not him; you can never be him!” Caleb took a deep breath, trying to regain control over his volume. “You can’t be our Molly,” Caleb repeated more softly.

Molly was crying now, and Caleb bit his lip and looked away. “I know I can’t be your Molly, but you all gave me an instant home and love and acceptance. And I – I’ve never known that before.”   
“We didn’t give that to you. We gave it back to our Molly,” Caleb spat, hurt, lonely. Molly drew his knees up to his chest, and Caleb watched his shoulders shaking. His chest hurt as he knew that this Molly would never be the Molly he had fallen for when they began their journey. That Molly had died in front of him once again.

“I’ll give you twenty-four hours to tell the others. They don’t deserve to think that Molly is alive when he’s not.” Caleb stood and walked to the other side of the camp. He collapsed, leaning against a tree. He could hear Molly crying softly across the campsite as he submitted to tears himself.

Molly pulled his knees tighter to his chest as he attempted to quell his sobs. He had wanted, so badly, to be the Molly that the group loved. And now he was going to lose all their kindness and support. He knew it was never a good idea to hide this from them, but the feeling of home – his body shook with another sob – that feeling of home with them he would miss desperately.

Morning sunlight began to dawn on his form, and he stepped away from the group, into the trees. He listened to the early-morning clattering as the group woke up. Molly wiped the tears from his eyes and rehearsed a speech in his head. He hated it; he hated every way he thought of to break it to them. But he didn’t want to leave them, leave the only family he’d ever known, even though it had only been for a few short weeks, and he’d only been alive for less than a year. He kept contemplating running away, but he truly couldn’t bring himself to do it. Molly summoned his courage and walked back to the group.

Taking a deep breath, he announced over the quiet chatter, “I have something to tell you all.”

“Are you and Caleb  _ finally _ fucking?” Jester sing-songed.

“Jester!” Fjord buried his face in his hand.

Caleb, on the edge of the group, turned bright red and looked as embarrassed as Molly felt. 

Molly swallowed, trying to ignore his imagination. “No. I… I haven’t been honest with you all. I, uh, I don’t… I don’t remember you. I don’t remember anything from before I died.” Molly tried to ignore the tears he could feel on his face as he watched the reactions, varying from shocked to angry to sad.

Yasha, stone-faced as always, put a hand on Molly’s shoulder comfortingly.

Beau walked silently up to Molly and punched him in the sternum, leaving him coughing as she walked off to the edge of the clearing.

Molly attempted a smile as he regained his breath. “Anyone else?” He spread his arms, a clear invitation for more punches.

“Molly, what the fuck?” Nott screeched. She seemed torn between taking up his punching-him offer – her dagger slipped into her hand – and making sure Caleb, who Molly tried not to look at, was ok.

“I didn’t,” Molly’s voice broke. “I didn’t want to kill your Molly again. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I’ll just… you all don’t want me here.” He turned, not wanting to keep seeing the pain on their faces and walked into the treeline, away. He could tell Yasha was following him, but he ignored her and collapsed against a tree once he judged himself far enough away.

Caleb silently watched as Mollymauk retreated into the woods. Jester was crying; Fjord had one hand around her shoulder. Beau was kicking at a tree at the edge of the clearing. Caduceus was as implacable as always. 

“Caleb?” Nott drew his attention out of the haze of his own mind and down to her by his legs. 

“ _ Er hat meine Katze gesagt _ .  _ Gestern. Denn habe ich gelernt. _ ”

“What?”

Caleb looked down at Nott, confused, before the fact he had spoken in Zemnian dawned on him. “He told my cat yesterday. I learned then.” Caleb kept his voice devoid of emotion. He couldn’t let that dam break.

“I’m going to fucking kill that asshole.” Nott hissed through her teeth.

“ _ Nein, Schatz. Ich liebe _ …” Caleb swallowed, trying to keep the tears back. “ _ Ich lieb’ ihn. _ ”

“Caleb, common.”

Caleb paused. “Nott, I love him.”

“What the fuck?” Nott screeched. The others spun quickly to look at the pair.

“I would appreciate your discretion, Nott.” Caleb hissed.

“Sorry. What the fuck!” Nott repeated much more quietly.

Caleb sat and lifted Frumpkin into his lap as he told Nott what had happened the night before Molly died.

Molly sat against the tree, feeling sorry for himself as he watched the sun rise over the forest. 

The sun had nearly made it to its zenith when Yasha finally spoke. “The old Molly may have been our friend. But you have become friends too, no?”

Molly closed his eyes, not trusting himself to speak.

“They will love you, Molly. They’ve all lied. They’ve all made mistakes.”   
“Have any of them fucked up this badly to their friends?” Molly didn’t know why he was arguing. He was hurt and sad and angry.

“Molly. Trauma’s not a competition. Fucking up is not a competition.”

Molly sat in silence for a while. “Yasha… Caleb figured it out.”

Yasha nodded.

Molly collapsed against Yasha, submitting to tears as she wrapped her arms around him.

“He’s processing, Molly. Give him time.”

Molly tried to form words, but his tears prevented them.

Molly left Yasha sometime early in the morning. She was asleep, and he did not wake her. He wandered until he found a rather secluded spot, then pulled out the box that had been handed to him along with the rest of his things they’d taken from his corpse, which he'd never gotten a chance to inspect. He opened it slowly, and cards were nestled within. Cards just like the Moon card he’d woken up to find. He shuffled through them reverently, staring at each one. 

He could remember meeting Gustav.

He could remember meeting Yasha and growing close to her.

He could remember his time in the circus troupe.

He could remember meeting the ragtag group that would become the Mighty Nein.

He could remember Jester and her never-ending energy.

He could remember Nott and her antics.

He could remember Fjord and all the conversations they shared when they shared a bedroom.

He could remember Beau and their friendly, loving rivalry.

He could remember Caleb and… oh fuck.

He remembered slowly falling in love with him.

He remembered kissing him under the pale moonlight on watch.

He remembered watching the anguish in his face as he crumpled to the ground, Lorenzo’s glaive through him.

Fuck.

No one mentioned how Yasha came back the next morning alone. No one mentioned Molly when the group packed up to pursue Obann. No one mentioned Molly when Yasha turned traitor. No one mentioned Molly until Molly himself gave a hesitant knock on the door of the Xhorhaus.

Beau leaned on the doorframe, blocking entry.

“What the fuck do you want?”

Molly shoved his way past her, and she muttered, “Asshole” before hollering “Company!” to the house.

“Yes. Hello, friends!” Molly spun around in the main room, his voice loud enough to, he hoped, be heard through the entire house. “I'm ba-”

He was cut off as Beau pressed him up against the door, an arm against his throat. “You. are. not. our. friend. Molly was our friend. You're not him.” She stepped away, tears in her eyes that were quickly wiped away.

Molly glanced past her to see everyone but Caleb and Yasha standing in various versions of crossed-arms annoyance, except for Caduceus, who was pouring tea.

“Hi,” Molly said weakly.

“Mollymauk. Wanna explain yourself?” Fjord grumbled.

“Wait, I think we need to focus on the important stuff first. What the  _ fuck _ happened to your accent?”

Fjord glared at him.

“Ok, fine. I remember. Not Lucien and his shit, but I remember you all. I remember meeting you and getting to know you and fighting monsters with you. I remember us all becoming friends, to one degree or another.”

“Fuck off. Look, you've already hurt us all enough. Just leave.”

“Beau, I remember what the worst thing you did was. Or at least what you claimed it was.” Molly offered a lopsided smile.

Beau stared at him for a long moment. “You really do remember.”

“Of course I do!” Molly offered a wink. “But, uh, where's Yash and Caleb?”

“Oh.” Jester said quietly. “Um.”

“Jessie?” Molly could feel his heartbeat speeding up.

“Caleb’s here.” Nott was still glaring daggers at him, and Molly was mildly worried about receiving those daggers in his chest. “He's probably working.”

Molly relaxed. “And I suppose Yasha’s off on one of her little dalliances for the Stormlord. Brilliant!”

“Not exactly,” Fjord swallowed. “She, uh, fuck. She betrayed us. Tried to kill us.”

Molly stared at him. “If literally anyone else had said that I would have laughed at their joke. Are you fucking with me?”

“He's not.” Jester looked on the edge of tears.

Molly looked at Beau and cursed quietly. “Shit. I'm sorry.”

“You don't fucking know anything about this?” Beau said.

“No. I only knew her for about six months longer than you did. Well,” he laughed hollowly, “I guess with the time I was dead counted, about the same time as you all.”

Caleb had stopped listening after Molly had confirmed his remembering. He had abandoned his work when he heard Molly’s voice and stroked his cat as he listened, too hurt to face the man himself.

“ _ Gott verdammt _ ,” Caleb whispered to Frumpkin. “ _ Er erinnert sich an _ .” He remembers.

Frumpkin purred contentedly as Caleb shoved his face into his fur, trying to keep himself calm. 

He sat there, breathing into Frumpkin’s fur for a few minutes before there was a knock on his door.

“Caleb?” Molly’s voice called through.

“Molly, he's working! Leave him alone! He doesn't want to see you!” Nott screeched.

Caleb swung his door open. “ _ Danke, Schatz _ , but it's ok. Come in, Mister Mollymauk.”

Caleb sat down on his bed and offered his desk chair to Molly with a sweep of his hand.

“I heard what you said. I know you remember.”

“Caleb, I'm sorry. I… gods, I fucked this all up and-”

“ _ Liebling, nein _ . You didn't remember.”

“But I hurt you. Godsdammit, you watched me die! And saw me return, not knowing, not loving you!” 

Caleb sucked in a breath sharply.

“I forgot you! How could I fucking forget  _ you _ ?”

“Mollymauk. Yes, you hurt me. Yes, I am angry at you. But, Molly, those things are true because I missed you. I missed your light and your love and your enthusiasm, your terrible jokes and the way you look when you smile.”

Molly looked up at Caleb, and Caleb could see the tears staining his face.

“Mollymauk, if anyone here is a fuck-up, it's me. And I could never hold it against you that you were less bad than me.”

“Caleb, no. You're not the man you were. You aren't a fuck-up.”

Caleb smiles ruefully. “Maybe.” He didn’t believe it, but he said it anyway. Maybe if he said it enough he finally would believe it.

Molly smiled sadly at him, then frowned as a look of realization crossed his face. “You thought – when I didn’t remember – you thought I didn’t want you anymore. You thought you’d fucked it up.”

“ _ Ja _ .”

“Fuck, Caleb, I’m so sorry. But now you know not even death can keep us apart!” Molly gave a forced smile, and Caleb gave a small one, grateful for him trying to lift the atmosphere.   
  



End file.
